Amina's voice

Review by Booklist Review

*Starred Review* Amina enjoys spending time with her best friend Soojin and practicing her singing, as long as no one is around to hear her. When Soojin starts talking about selecting a second, more American name when she becomes a citizen, Amina feels she is starting to lose her friend, especially as Soojin starts to befriend classmate Emily and talk about boys. To add to Amina's worries, her parents have signed her up to be part of a statewide Quran recitation competition. While Amina has a beautiful singing talent, she's afraid she won't do well and is searching for a way out. When the Islamic Center is vandalized, however, Amina begins to discover things about her family, her friends, her community, and herself that ultimately help her through her difficulties, in particular, that the support she needs is all around her. The Amina that readers meet at at the beginning of the story a shy, unsure young girl gradually and beautifully blossoms into the confident girl she longs to be. Khan gracefully balances portraying the unique features of Amina's cultural and religious background with familiar themes of family, belonging, and friendship worries, which should resonate with a wide range of readers. Written as beautifully as Amina's voice surely is, this compassionate, timely novel is highly recommended for all libraries.--Paz, Selenia Copyright 2017 Booklist

From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.

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Review by Publisher's Weekly Review

For musically gifted Amina Khokar, sixth grade heralds a multitude of changes. Her best friend Soojin is about to be granted citizenship and plans to leave her Korean name behind, plus Soojin has befriended another classmate, Emily, whom Amina distrusts. Meanwhile, Amina's family is hosting her strict Muslim great-uncle, who is visiting Wisconsin from Pakistan, and stage-fright-prone Amina prepares to publically read a passage from the Quran in Arabic. The vandalism of the local Islamic Center and mosque further heightens the turmoil in this timely coming-of-age story. Through Amina's emotional, honest responses-betrayed confusion over Soojin wanting an American name, her worry about her uncle's comments that her passion for music is un-Islamic, her dejected disbelief in response to the Islamophobic vandalism-Khan (Golden Domes and Silver Lanterns) gracefully addresses the difficulty of reconciling individual beliefs with those of others, especially those you love, as well as the complications that accompany the merging of cultures. Watching Amina literally and figuratively find her voice-bolstered by community, friendship, and discovered inner strength-makes for rewarding reading. Ages 8-12. Agent: Matthew Elblonk, DeFiore and Company. (Mar.) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.

(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

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Review by School Library Journal Review

Gr 4-6-When 11-year-old Amina starts middle school, she feels pressure to reinvent herself. Amina and her family are Pakistani Americans, and their Muslim faith is the foundation of their lives. But Amina also loves music, especially singing and playing the piano. When her traditionally minded uncle visits from Pakistan, Amina overhears him saying that music is haram, or forbidden. Finding her voice becomes even harder, especially since Amina had been considering trying out for a solo in the chorus concert. Instead, her family signs Amina up for the Quran competition at the local Islamic Center. When it is vandalized, Amina's faith is shaken, but thanks to the support of her friends and the greater community, she is able to find acceptance and her own voice in unique ways. Narrator Soneela Nankani infuses Amina's character with the right blend of curiosity, hesitation, and resilience, and her subtle voice shifts ensure each character has a unique identity. VERDICT This realistic story of self-discovery and acceptance will be a strong addition to middle grade collections.-Anne Bozievich, Friendship Elementary School, Glen Rock, PA © Copyright 2018. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

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Review by Horn Book Review

Since she started middle school, shy Amina struggles with self-consciousness about her Muslim Pakistani American identity. Meanwhile, her conservative uncle objects to her singing and piano playing, and the local Islamic Center is vandalized. A relatable portrayal of a tween who wants to fit in, and who's devoted to her faith even amid her confusion about her family's varied approaches to it. (c) Copyright 2017. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

(c) Copyright The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

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Review by Kirkus Book Review

A Pakistani-American girl starting middle school learns how to cope with the changes and challenges she faces at home, at school, and within her close-knit Muslim community. True to her parents' endearment for her, geeta ("song" in Urdu), Amina loves to sing. But unlike the contestants on her favorite reality TV show The Voice, Amina shuns the spotlightshe's a bundle of nerves in front of an audience! She's happy living her life as usual, hanging out with her best friend, Korean-American Soojin, playing the piano, and attending Sunday school at the Islamic Center. Except that life isn't "as usual" anymore. In fact, everything is changing, and changing fast. Soojin wants an "American" name to go with her new citizenship status, and even worse, Soojin starts getting chummy with their elementary school nemesis, a white girl named Emily, leaving a jealous Amina fuming. Then, her visiting uncle voices his disapproval of her piano-playing, saying it's forbidden in Islam. Finally, when the Islamic Center is vandalized, Amina feels like the whole world as she knows it is crumbling around her. With the help and support of the larger community, the Islamic Center is slowly rebuilt, and Amina comes to terms with her identity and culture, finding strength in her own voice. Khan deftlyand subtlyweaves aspects of Pakistani and Muslim culture into her story, allowing readers to unconsciously absorb details and develop understanding and compassion for another culture and faith. Amina's middle school woes and the universal themes running through the book transcend culture, race, and religion. A perfect first book for this new Muslim imprint. (Fiction. 10-14) Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

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Amina's Voice 1 Something sharp pokes me in the rib. "You should totally sign up for a solo," Soojin whispers from the seat behind me in music class. I shake my head. The mere thought of singing in front of a crowd makes my stomach twist into knots. "But you're such a good singer," Soojin insists. I pause, enjoying the praise for a second. Soojin is the only one at school who knows I can sing, and she thinks I'm amazing at it. Every Tuesday we argue about the best contestant on The Voice and who deserves to advance to the next round. I can count on Soojin to end the conversation by saying that I'm better than most of the people on the show, and that I deserve to be on it someday. But what she doesn't consider is that if by some miracle I was standing in front of the judges and live studio audience, I wouldn't be able to croak out a word. I shake my head again. "Come on, Amina. Just try it." Soojin is a little louder now. "Girls, is that chatter about you volunteering?" Ms. Holly stares at us from the front of the classroom with her eyebrows raised. "Ouch!" I yelp. It's Soojin's pencil in my side again. "Is that a yes, Amina? Should I sign you up for a solo for the concert?" Ms. Holly asks. "How about one of the Motown pieces from the 1970s?" I sink lower into my chair as everyone stares at me and stumble over my words. "Um, no, thank you. I'll just stay in the chorus," I finally manage to mutter. "Okay." Ms. Holly shrugs, a frown clouding her face until Julie Zawacki, waving her hand like an overenthusiastic first grader, distracts her. Julie always wants the spotlight and tends to sing extremely loudly. It's as if she thinks vol ume makes up for her lack of pitch. I always wonder how the math class next door gets any work done whenever Julie starts belting. But I still wish I had even half the guts she does. "Remember, we've only got two months to prepare for the Winter Choral Concert. This is a big deal, guys," Ms. Holly calls out as the bell rings and we file out for lunch. "I can't believe you didn't sign up," Soojin complains as we sit down at what has already become our usual spot in the lunchroom three weeks into the school year. "This is your big chance to finally show everyone what you've been hiding." I'm pretty sure that was what Adam, the judge with sleeve tattoos, said to the tall redheaded girl on The Voice last Sunday night, and I tell her that. "I'm serious," Soojin says. "It's time to forget about John Hancock." Just the mention of that name brings back the memories I've tried to block since second grade: our class play about American independence. I was John Hancock and was supposed to say one line: "I will proudly sign my name in big letters." But when it came time for the performance, I looked out into the audience, saw the sea of faces, and froze. There was this endless moment when the world grew still and waited for me to speak. But I couldn't open my mouth. My teacher, Mr. Silver, finally jumped in and said my line for me, with a joke about how John Hancock had lost his voice but was going to sign his name extra big to make up for it. The audience laughed and the show went on while I burned with humiliation. I can still hear Luke and his friend jeering at me from the side of the stage. "That was forever ago! We're in sixth grade now. You need to get over it." Soojin sighs as if my entire middle school future depends on performing a solo in Ms. Holly's Blast from the Past production. I don't let her see how much I agree with her and how badly I want the spot. "Anyway, do you think I look like a Heidi?" she continues. I have a mouthful of sandwich and stare at her as I chew, relieved that she's changed the subject. I try to imagine her with a name I associate with Swiss cartoon characters or a famous supermodel--not my twelve-year-old Korean best friend. "Not really," I finally say after swallowing. "Why?" "What about Jessica? Do I look like a Jessica?" Soojin picks carrots out of an overstuffed sandwich wrapped in white deli paper. "No. What are you talking about?" "I got it." Soojin sits back and crosses her arms. She's hardly reassembled her sandwich and it's already half gone. No one I know eats as fast as Soojin. It's one of the many ways we are opposites. I can't ever finish my lunch, no matter how hard I try. "What?" "Melanie! I totally feel like a Melanie, and I love that name." Soojin flips her long black hair off her shoulder and acts like she is meeting me for the first time. "Hi, I'm Melanie." "What's wrong with you? Are you feeling okay?" Soojin pretends to pout. "Just tell me, who do you think I look like?" "Soo-jin," I say slowly. I put the other half of my sandwich back into my bag and pull mini pretzels out. "You look exactly like a Soojin." Soojin sighs again, extra loudly, just like she does when her younger sister pesters us to play with her. It seems like I'm getting that sigh more and more lately--ever since the start of middle school. "That's because you've always known me as Soojin, Amina." "Yeah, that's my point." "What's your point?" I hear a familiar voice behind me and turn around. A small, blond girl is carrying a cafeteria tray and a jumbo metal water bottle with the words "I am not PLASTIC" on it. Emily. Her green eyes and tiny nose remind me of my next-door neighbor's bad-tempered cat, Smokey. "Nothing," I say. I wait for her to keep walking to the other side of the lunchroom, where she always sits with Julie and her crew. "What are you guys talking about?" she asks. I wait for Soojin to answer, expecting her to say some thing to send Emily scurrying. Even though the cat gets my tongue when either Emily or Julie come prowling, Soojin never has any problem telling them exactly what she thinks. But Soojin just says, "I'm thinking of new names for myself." "New names? That's weird. Why?" Emily starts a stream of questions. And as much as I want Emily to leave, I want to hear the answers. "It's not weird at all, actually. My family and I are becoming citizens soon, and I'm going to change my name." "Wait. So that means you're not even American?" Emily sounds offended. "What?" I ask. There is no way I heard Soojin right. "Change your name? What for?" Soojin smooths her hair, sips some fizzy juice, and takes a deep breath. "We moved from Korea when I was four, and we aren't American citizens yet. But we are about to be, and I'm going to change my name. I just haven't picked one yet." "Oh, I have the perfect name for you," Emily volunteers. She plops down her tray on the table and smiles like she is about to spill a juicy secret. "Fiona," she says. "Fiona?" I snort. "As in the green ogre girl from the Shrek movies?" "No. Fiona, as in my uncle's Scottish girlfriend. She's totally pretty." I flash Soojin a look, but she doesn't notice. Instead, she actually seems to be pondering the name as if it's a possibility. An ogre name! Suggested by Emily! And then Emily suddenly starts to shove herself into the space next to me. I don't move at first. But when she's nearly in my lap and Soojin still doesn't say anything, I scoot over to make just enough room for her. Then I lean across the table and stare hard at Soojin. Why is Emily sitting with us? Ever since before Soojin moved to Greendale from New York in third grade, Emily has worked extremely hard to be Julie's best friend. Mama would say Emily was Julie's chamchee, which means "spoon" in Urdu. That doesn't make a lot of sense, except that it also means "suck-up." And Emily has always sucked up to Julie, even if that means laughing really hard at her dumb jokes or chiming in when she puts everyone else down. And by everyone else, I mean mostly Soojin and me. "Fi-oh-na," Soojin repeats. "That's kind of nice." "Do you like it?" Emily asks me. "Not--um--I don't know," I stammer. "Do you seriously think she looks like a Fiona?" "Duh. She can look like anybody she wants, can't she?" Emily turns back to Soojin. My face grows hot. "Don't you like being Soojin?" I ask my best friend in a low voice, leaning across the table to make it harder for Emily to hear. "You've been Soojin your whole life. Aren't you used to it?" I want to add that we had always been the only kids in elementary school with names that everyone stumbled over. That is, until Olayinka came along in fifth grade. It's always been one of our "things." "Really, Amina? I thought you, at least, would understand what it's like to have people mess up your name every single day." Soojin lets out her sigh again. And this time it feels like I deserve it, even though I don't know why. Mama told me once that she picked my name thinking it would be easiest of all the ones on her list for people in America to pronounce. But she was wrong. The neighbor with the creepy cat still calls me Amelia after living next door for five years. And my last name? Forget about it. I could barely pronounce Khokar myself until I was at least eight. And since I don't want to embarrass anyone by correcting them more than once, I just let them say my name any way they want. Soojin is the only one at school who gets it. Whenever a substitute teacher pauses during roll call and asks, "Oh, ah, how do you say your name, dear?" I don't even have to look at her to know she's rolling her eyes. We still collapse into giggling fits if one of us mentions the lady who called me Anemia, as in the blood disorder. But now all of a sudden Soojin wants to be a Fiona or a Heidi? Does it have something to do with being in middle school? "What other names do you like?" Emily asks. She's so interested in the conversation that she hasn't touched the limp grilled cheese sandwich on her tray yet. I lean back and chew my pretzels while Soojin repeats her other choices to Emily. "Ooh. I like Melanie, too," Emily says. As I watch them chat, the lunchroom starts to feel like someone's cranked up the heat. My palms get sweaty, and I feel super thirsty, and not just from the pretzels. I look around and find Julie sitting at her usual table, talking with a couple of new girls from another elementary school. She doesn't seem to even notice that Emily is missing. I don't say another word until Emily gets up to put her tray away and go to the bathroom before the bell rings. "Soojin's a pretty name too," I say in as normal a voice as I can. "And I'm not just saying it because I'm used to it." I want to add that I can't imagine calling Soojin any of those other names, and that it would feel like I was talking to an impostor--but I don't. It doesn't seem like Soojin wants to hear that. "Thanks." Soojin's face softens. "You know, a lot of Korean people have two names, a Korean one and an English one." "Yeah. But you didn't have another name before. So why do you want one now?" "I always wished I had a different name. Besides, my whole family is picking new ones." Soojin's dad already goes by George and her mom is Mary, so their names would just become official after they take the oath to become citizens. I call them Mr. and Mrs. Park anyway, since my parents never let me call any grown-ups by their first names. Everyone is Auntie and Uncle or Mr. and Mrs. But Soojin taking on a new name just doesn't seem right. "Can I still call you Soojin?" I ask after swallowing hard to clear the lump that has formed in my throat. "I want everyone to use my new name and get used to it in middle school, so it's normal when we get to high school. It would be messed up if my own best friend didn't do it." Soojin peers into my face expectantly. "You will, right?" "Yeah. I will," I promise, although I cross my toes inside my shoes. I decide I will call her Soojin for as long as possible. The knots tighten in my stomach again, churning the half sandwich, seven mini pretzels, and three bites of cookie sitting inside. I watch Soojin put her empty containers back in her lunch bag, looking for a clue to why she's acting so bizarre. Because even though I can't explain why, something about Soojin wanting to drop her name makes me worry that I might be next. Excerpted from Amina's Voice by Hena Khan All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.

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